


If at First You Don't Succeed

by Star_Going_Supernova



Series: Heart & Soul AU [3]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Coffee Shops, College Students Henry and Joey, Fluff, Gen, Heart & Soul AU, Interlude, Joey's a Good Friend, crazy right?, return of the
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 17:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12562696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: Henry comes to a realization about Joey’s presence in his life.Or; Joey’s persistence pays off.





	If at First You Don't Succeed

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I had a friend like Joey. Y’know, before the whole ritual sacrifices part. Also, you should probably read An Auspicious First Meeting before this, but I think it could mostly work on its own.
> 
> Also, to anyone who's hoping I'll continue Dreams Come True, I'm going to post the next chapter tomorrow!

Henry shoved through the coffee shop door, immediately zeroing in on his target. With a torn piece of paper in hand, he dodged people and tables, coming to a stop beside an occupied one in the very back. It was his usual spot, the one he sat at every time he came here— including a week ago.

He scowled and waved the scribbled note around. “Seriously? You found out where I lived?”

Joey Drew smiled charmingly up at him and said, “I noticed you hadn’t been back here recently.”

“Oh, so you thought you’d extend an invitation.”

Leaning his forearms on the table, Joey slowly pushed one of the two steaming cups of coffee in front of him to the vacant side. There was even a plate of cookies in the middle, still looking slightly gooey. “That’s right,” he said. 

Accepting the inevitable, Henry collapsed into the chair left for him— again, his usual. It was already pulled out, too. 

He sighed. “I never imagined my stalker to be so cheery.”

“You’ve imagined having a stalker?”

Henry tilted his head forward and raised an eyebrow. “Hasn’t everyone?” 

Joey opened his mouth, paused, and closed it, leaning back. “Touché.”

Lifting his mug in acknowledgment, Henry settled more comfortably in his seat. He took a sip and immediately cursed.

“What?” Joey asked. “Did I get it wrong?” 

Henry stared down into the liquid. It was perfect, even better than he himself sometimes achieved. 

Softly, he said, “You are the worst sort of human being, Joey Drew.”

“And why’s that?” he asked, sounding like he was on the verge of laughing. When Henry looked up at him, he was even suppressing a smile. 

“Because you’ve somehow managed to make me not hate you,” Henry finally said. 

Joey beamed at him. “A real step up from last week’s utter loathing, then.”

Henry didn’t respond until he was half finished with his drink and had eaten two of the warm cookies. When he did, though, he merely told Joey, “I’m still not impressed by you. Even if you did figure out where I live and how I like my coffee.”

“Ah, Henry Ross!” Joey slapped his thigh, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I dare say that if you were, I never woulda sent you that little invitation.”

• • • • • 

By the time two months had passed, Henry found himself meeting up with Joey at that same table in the back at least twice a week, sometimes three. If there was one thing Joey’s antics were good for, it was inspiration for Henry’s comics. 

Joey pickpocketed a pickpocket and returned a woman’s gold bracelet? Bendy caught a crook and returned a valuable heirloom.

Joey flooded the bathroom in the first floor business office on campus? Bendy had to deal with a broken sink without being discovered. 

Joey found an injured bunny and nursed it back to health? Bendy saved a family of hedgehogs and went on an adventure to return them to a better habitat. 

It was the fastest Henry had ever made full comics. Many formerly abandoned pieces were dug up and finished at long last, Henry finally knowing how to end them. 

Perhaps another thing Joey was good for was encouragement; if Henry hit a rough patch or was feeling particularly down about his work, Joey was always quick to drag his chair around their table and throw an arm across Henry’s shoulders. He’d point down at Bendy, give Henry a quick shake, and say, “You see that little demon right there?” 

“I see ’im,” Henry would say. 

“Who drew him? Who keeps drawing him?”

The first time, Henry hadn’t known where Joey was going with his line of questioning. Every repeat occurrence after that, despite having the script memorized, Henry would dutifully answer, “I draw him.” 

“That’s right, _you_ do. Now where else can we find this handsome devil?” From his satchel, Joey would pull out a bundle of pages taken from the local newspaper. The pile was larger every time Joey took it out. 

He’d unwrap the rubber band and thumb through the sheets as though he’d never seen any of them before. Which— just over a week into their acquaintanceship (“Call it what it is, Henry— we’re friends now.” “Let me live in denial a little longer. When people ask me if I know you, it’s usually ’cause you managed to make ’em angry, and it’s better for my health if I can say no.”), Joey had plonked down at their table— for once not the first one there— and asked Henry how he’d like to have a spot in the funnies; Henry had called him a dirty liar right up until his first comic was printed.

“Ah ha! What do we have here?” Without fail, Joey would shuffle through the clippings despite Henry’s half-embarrassed protests. “Looks to me like a mighty successful artist gaining popularity. Even got two whole strips in this week’s.” 

Whining was above Henry, but if anyone could bring it out in him, it _would_ be his obnoxious companion, wouldn’t it? “Joey…” he’d say, ignoring how drawn out the word was.

Like an older brother, Joey wouldn’t let Henry off the hook until he could confidently repeat Joey’s ridiculous affirmations— the fact that said affirmations actually helped was a confession Henry would take to his grave. 

As Joey told another unbelievable story— literally; Henry was never sure whether or not to trust a word he said when he got like this— the drawing pad beneath Henry’s constantly moving pen rapidly filled. His friend’s words flowed through one ear, stirred up the creative juices, and dribbled out the other. Random images burst into being behind his eyelids and were transferred onto the page: Bendy in fun poses, other characters to bear the brunt of his gags, a study in scenery—

Wait. 

His… _friend’s_. 

Henry’s pen clattered to the table, his forehead following after it. Joey fell silent as the wooden thump interrupted him. 

“You all right there?”

After a long groan, Henry said into his sketchbook, “We’re friends.”

Silence. 

“You, uh. You wanna run that by me again?” Joey asked, voice cracking a bit.

Henry tilted his head to look up at him sideways. Across the table, Joey had a hand pressed to his mouth, trying to contain his smile.

“I hate you,” Henry said.

In the midst of a boisterous, booming laugh, Joey managed to say, “You’ve finally come to terms with me?”

“You’re like a parasite,” Henry said, sitting back up. “I just now realized I’ll never get rid of you.” 

Shaking his head, beaming, Joey asked, “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em?” 

Finally cracking a smile, Henry swiped his pen up from the table to finish the sketch he’d been working on when he had his little crisis. Right in the middle of the page, surrounded by hasty crosshatching and half-careless lines, was a meticulously drawn scene. A small cartoon Henry held Bendy— sitting on his creator’s shoulders— by the ankles. The mischievous demon, beaming his customary smile with his pie-cut eyes crinkled up in exaggerated mirth, was holding Henry’s dark brown hair up in little devil horns. Across from them stood the cartoon likeness of Joey, hands pressed to his stomach, head thrown back. The stretch of his mouth in laughter perfectly matched that of his real-life counterpart. 

“Somethin’ like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, that’s not what you’ll be thinking in two decades, Henry, give or take a few years.


End file.
